After the night at the club, I set out to find a way out of this deal—if there was one. Most of the research I had come across online consisted of all folk lore, and no personal accounts, nothing to say anything would help, or work. No one to have done such a thing. But maybe—maybe someone might know about Bane's Hollow. My gran was up in her years, and had become quite hard of hearing, so I figured paying her a visit over calling might be best.
I drove back home for the first time in a few years. Gran lived just down the road from where I grew up, in part, with my dad. I always hated driving past the old house. It went to shit after sitting vacant all these years. I inherited it but wanted nothing to do with it, so I just let it rot. No good memories were made there anyhow. Now the shutters were barely hanging on, the white paint had peeled off in strips that showed the grey weathered wood beneath. The porch had broken rails, and a few windows as well. Some kids probably thought the house was haunted must have busted them. They could set the place on fire for all I cared.
Gran's house was surrounded by green grass and carefully tended flowerbeds with peonies and marigolds. It was a small yellow house, with white trim and sheer coral curtains that covered the windows. I knocked hard on the door before I turned the knob and poked my head inside. She was in her recliner, crochet needles in hand as she watched a show called Baggage that was hosted by Jerry Springer. She used to make me watch it with her, and I was fairly certain she had seen every episode that was aired, but she loved it. Always sitting with her glasses pushed up snickering at the television.
"Hey gran." She looked up at me and put her needles in her lap and dropped her feet to the floor.
"Keiran, I'm so happy to see you," Gran said as she got up to give me a hug. It had been getting harder for her to get up and move around these past few years, so I supported her arms as she sat back down.
"I'm happy to see you too gran. How are you feeling?" I asked loud enough for her to hear.
Her chair creaked as she pulled the lever to bring the leg rest back up. "Oh, you know. Old," she laughed, and side eyed me. She always had quite a sense of humor. "What are you doing out here? I thought you were busy in the city hurtin' people."
With a sideways smile, I said, "Gran, that sounds terrible when you put it like that. It's art."
"Well, it's still hurtin' people." She returned a snarky smile as she settled into her chair and turned the volume down.
"True that. Anyway, I just came out to visit. I did have something I wanted to ask you about."
"Go on then," she said as she lowered her brows and pushed her glasses up her nose.
"You remember Bane's Hollow, right?
"Mmph," she nodded.
"Well, when I was a kid, you told me once that you could have a wish granted there, and I was just wondering how you knew that." Gran kept her eyes on her hands that were clasped in her lap for a long moment.
"I knew someone who made a wish once," she said, finally looking at me. "Why?"
"You said there would be a price if you made a wish, I just wanted to know what the price was, or if there was a way out of paying it." I looked at her expectantly and hoped she couldn't see my desperation.
Gran shook her head, her wrinkled mouth forming a weak smile. "If a wish was granted, and a deal was struck, there's no getting out of it."
Her words settled in my stomach like a hot kettle and dread washed over me as I asked, "How do you know this gran? Who do you know that made a wish?"
YOU ARE READING
The Devil and I
Romance"I like looking at you," he breathed. "Looking at you is like taking a breath of fresh air. Not the polluted gas above," he waved his hand dismissively. "But fresh air, like from the garden." He stood from the chair and walked to the end of the bed...
